The Stoic and The Epicurean
by Ochiba Konpeki
Summary: Epicureanism. Stoicism. On the surface, they are two very different ways of looking at life, but if you look closer... Crenny, minor K2 and Tyde. Warning: Rape, death, drugs, sex. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1: At Odds

_Enjoy part one._

**The Stoic and The Epicurean**

Everywhere, people were crying. Bebe, Red, and Heidi were having a sob fest in the corner, Clyde was bawling and Token was trying to comfort him through his own tears, Stan was trying to hide his deterioration in Kyle's chest, Sheila was helping Mrs. Testaburger have a mental breakdown, Randy was tearfully offering Mr. Testaburger a beer. The only one who dared approach the coffin was Kenny, who remained absolutely still, head bowed as though in prayer, and let tears run down his face freely. "So much potential." he mourned with a slightly twisted, grief-stricken grin.

Even Tweek had yet to run out with a panic attack, choosing instead to cry and shake in his best friend's arms. Craig, the friend in question, had the only dry eyes in the room. Very calmly, with absolutely no expression, he stared straight ahead, stroking Tweek's back and petting his hair but otherwise not moving a muscle. "Breathe." he monotonously urged the crying teen. "Breathe."

Tweek took in a shuddering gasp and went limp. With no note of concern or surprise on his face, he gathered the fainted blond in his arms, holding him like one might hold a child. Unconsciously, he rocked from side to side, shifting his weight from foot to foot and humming, a monotonous, steady, quiet noise meant to comfort.

But still, his expression didn't change. Kenny glared tearfully at him, but Craig didn't notice at all. He continued to stare, even when Tweek jerked awake a moment later and began to cling to him, making the job of holding him much easier.

The blond in the hood stalked up to the silent teen and stared at him with a _go on_ expression, but Craig merely slid his gaze over him, uncaring. Kenny placed his fists on his hips, jutting one out and cocking his head to the side (unconsciously imitating his little sister's pissed off stance) and growled, "Tucker."

Finally, Craig's eyes fixed on the hoodrat. "McCormick." he acknowledged as though he wasn't holding a sobbing teenage boy, as though he weren't at a funeral. More like they were greeting each other as they got ready for first period Chemistry. They had a silent stare off for a moment before the shorter teen threw his hands up in exasperation and demanded, "What the fuck?"

"What the fuck." Craig echoed. Kenny practically snarled, ignoring the several sets of watery eyes fixed on them as he impatiently wiped away his own flowing tears. "Wendy's dead." he informed the raven, voice cracking a little. Several people in the room flinched at the words, but Craig merely blinked at him, clutching Tweek just a bit tighter.

"Wendy is dead." he agreed, nodding a little. The blond in his arms whimpered, taking shallow, shuddery breaths. "Breathe." he reminded the coffee addict again. Kenny rolled his eyes, scowling, and prodded, "_So..?_"

"So..?" Craig repeated flatly. The blond offered him an ludicrous stare. "_So_," he continued eventually, "Why aren't you crying?"

Craig seemed genuinely surprised-as genuinely as Craig ever shows any emotion. He blinked at the blond and looked around the room slowly, taking in the dozens of sobbing South Parkians. "... Should I be crying?" he asked eventually, voice as monotone as ever. It was seriously starting to piss the immortal off.

"Aren't you _sad_?" he demanded. Craig let his face melt into a scowl even when his eyes remained blank. "Of course." he muttered. "I'd have to be heartless to not be sad."

Now the blond just looked tired, drawn. Something in his heart twinged just looking at him, and Craig looked desperately for words of comfort. They didn't come to him, so he merely stared, watching the blond wipe away more tears, aware of their heartbroken audience. "I just don't see the point in crying." The raven elaborated eventually. "It helps nothing."

"Cr-Craig?" a tiny voice pleaded, muffled by said teen's shirt. Craig tore his eyes away from the crying blond to look at his best friend. "Take me h-home?" he begged tearfully. Kenny thought he could, for a second, see emotion flicker in Craig's eyes, but he couldn't say for sure as the stoic teen was already turning around, emitting that low steady hum.

Kenny stared after him, unashamed of the bitter liquid trailing down his face.

OoO

_An Epicurean is ruled by emotion._

_A Stoic is ruled by reason._

OoO

Craig blinked, shaking his head as he took note of the fact that the secondhand smoke was giving him a buzz. _No matter,_ he thought._ Tweek's nearly done._

The blond in question had his head in Craig's lap, a huge grin on his face and a halfway-burned through joint in his delicate fingers. No twitches ailed his body and when he spoke, there were no stutters. "You wanna hit, Craig?" he offered kindly, knowing his answer before he shook his head. Tweek only smoked once or twice a month, but he always had Craig looking after him and Craig never smoked.

The only other people in the hazy, dimly lit basement were Stan, who supplied the basement, Kenny, who supplied the marijuana, and Kyle, who was here for the same reason as Craig, but seemed to be much more susceptible to the secondhand smoke. The raven eyed the high little redhead wearily as he clung to Stan, gasping pathetically, "Stan, Stan? My body isn't listening to me. Stan? My body isn't moving right!"

"Sh." Kenny comforted him, dragging him away from the giggling jock. He took down his hood and smoothed his hand over Kyle's back, urging him to lay down in his lap.

Craig shook his head blearily as he watched Kenny subtly molest the frightened teen while Stan watched on with an expression torn between amusement and worry. "He's scared, McCormick." he noted monotonously, taking the almost burned down joint from his eerily calm best friend and putting it out. Kenny flashed a smile at him and nodded at the bag of weed and the torn-up phonebook off to the side. "Want some?" he offered. Craig shook his head, transfixed by the growing desperation in those pretty green eyes as the Jew scrabbled at Kenny's parka, pleading, "K-Kenny?"

"You're okay." he soothed the redhead, repositioning him between his legs, back to chest. He glanced up at Craig and Tweek and addressed them cordially, "Why don't you ever smoke with us, Tucker?"

But Craig just scowled at the way Kenny's hands were wandering, dodging Kyle's clumsy attempts to catch them. He looked to Stan as though asking if this was ordinary, but he was contentedly examining the ladybug he'd found crawling around. The stoic teen shook his head. "Weed is against the law." he explained absently.

"Then why are you here?" Kenny probed, smirking at the little frightened noises Kyle was making as he slipped a hand under the redhead's shirt. Craig grimaced at the frustrated tears gathering in his eyes and the way he scrabbled at the floor for a hold. "I have to_ take care _of Tweek." he answered pointedly, eyes narrowing just a little to display his anger. He glanced down at the self-reminder, relieved to find the little blond happily slumbering.

The hoodrat rolled his eyes, leaning down to lick the ginger's neck. Kyle yelped, trying to lurch away only to be dragged back. "Stop it." he mewled pitifully, trying to smack Kenny's hands away. The blond paid him no mind, continuing to molest him as he answered Craig. "Always one to following the rules and do what he has to." he mused. "I'd've taken care of him."

Craig twitched as he witnessed Kyle give up, scared and overwhelmed, and stopped trying to fight Kenny off, shutting his eyes tightly. A whimper escaped his throat and the raven's hands clenched into fists. Stan was blathering away at his new 'friend', obviously having overdone it. If someone was going to help Kyle, it would have to be Craig. "The same way you're taking care of Kyle?" he practically growled, a flare of anger sparking in his eyes very, very briefly as he nodded to the scarred digits fingering the button of the Jew's jeans.

Kenny just chuckled. "Ky is a damn tease." he explained as though it excused him. "St-stop it!" the redhead almost screamed, dry sobbing lightly. "Shh." Kenny nuzzled his neck lovingly, rubbing his friend's inner thigh and abdomen in an attempt to comfort him. "You're okay."

"He's not okay." Craig whispered. "You're scaring him. Why are you molesting him like that? Isn't he your friend?"

Kenny laughed out loud, making Kyle jump as he looked around frantically. "I want to, and of course Kyle's my friend. I adore him. Look how cute he is... And I'm just having a little fun." The blond looked over at the unrolled weed, obviously debating whether or not to have another joint. He decided Kyle was more fun and went back to fingering the button of the trembling teen's jeans, pondering how far he could take this, pondering what he could do about his hard on. Figuring a handjob couldn't possibly hurt too much, he went ahead and snapped the button open.

Craig tensed, shifting Tweek to lay on the ground instead, glaring at the top of the oblivious hoodrat's head. Stan, he noted angrily, had passed out. Goddamn it all to hellfire. _One false move, McCormick,_ he threatened mentally, _and you're a dead man._

The sound of the zipper was loud in the silence of the room, and the heartbreaking whimper that followed was even worse. Instantly, Craig was on his feet, towering over the pair threateningly. "He said stop." he snarled.

Kenny scowled, pausing his efforts to glare up at the ever-emotionless teen. "What's it to you, Tucker?"

"You're sick." Craig sneered back, tugging the scared-out-of-his mind redhead out of Kenny's grasp harshly, instinctively cradling him close like he would Tweek. A small cry escaped his lips and the raven automatically began to emit that familiar monotonous hum.

Kenny was on his feet too. "Get your hands off of him!" he demanded, hands on his hips, one jutted out to the side, head cocked to the side. Just like his sister. Craig ignored him, gently toeing Tweek awake. The blond sat up groggily, rubbing at his eyes, but the sight of the now-crying redhead in Craig's arms jolted him into alertness. He jumped to his feet, glaring instinctively at Kenny. "What happened?"

Craig stared at Stan, unsure if he should get him away from the horny blond as well. "Molested Kyle."

The raven hid a fond smile as Tweek promptly flipped the much bigger boy off, totally unflinchingly. "Asshole." he muttered fearlessly. Kenny gaped at him in shock as Craig decided Stan would be fine and left, two high-as-a-kite teenage boys in tow. The blond stared after them for several long moments.

Finally, though, he just grabbed the smoldering joint from the unconscious Jock's hand and took a long drag, breathing the smoke out on a sigh of, "Fuck it."

OoO

_An Epicurean does as he pleases._

_A Stoic does as he should._

OoO

Craig hates these kind of parties.

Though really, what other kinds of parties are there when you're a highschooler? Highschool parties are loud and they have alcohol, hence the drunk off his ass Clyde making out with an equally drunk off his ass Token.

Glaring at the pair that dragged him there in the first place, making out furiously in the middle of Cartman's living room, Craig flipped them off, groaning in exasperation when they didn't react. Suddenly, he was glad Tweek wasn't here. As far as he could tell, there was no marijuana at the party that night and nothing else could have possibly calmed him down from the panic attack that the wanton sight of two of his closest friends almost violently dry humping would inevitably cause.

"Token!" Craig called over the music, knowing he was probably slightly-less-shitfaced than Clyde. Sure enough, the teen broke away from Clyde's lips to demand impatiently, "What?" while groping the brunette and trying to focus on the figure of his stoic friend. Craig leaned forward to ensure he was heard and rapidly informed Token, "Dude, you're making out with Clyde." He was trying to knock sobriety into the teen. "You sure you're okay with this?"

Token gave him that infinitely annoyed yet patient expression that only really smart rich kids could really perfect -the better-than-thou look modified for infinite irritation. "Is he kissing b-oh god, Clyde! Is he kissing back?"

"... Yeah?"

"I have no complaints."

And then Token was moaning and Craig decided he should be elsewhere.

He pushed through the crowds of drunk, horny, insane teenagers, feeling a headache from the mindnumbing music-_is that German metal?_-coming on. Eventually, he found a hallway that seemed relatively empty and started trying locks. The first three stayed put, and the wild noises emitting from them made Craig decide he didn't want to be in there anyway. The fourth door, however, swung open at his touch and he froze at the depraved sight that greeted him.

Now Kenny, for his part, seemed to be having the time of his life. And Craig had always known he was a whore, but goddamn. Nobody else he knew had the balls to touch a threesome with Butters and Cartman with a twenty foot pole. As the shock died away, Craig became uncomfortably aware of how hot the sight was. Not even the fact that it was three people-three very contrasting people. Cartman and Butters paled out of sight and out of mind compared to Kenny McCormick.

Skin slicked with sweat, legs spread wantonly for the neo-nazi's cock, bobbing his head up and down on Butters' like a pro, every tight muscle in his body writhing and stretch taut and he was so exposed, such a little slut, better than any pornstar-Craig, in that moment, wanted him more than he'd ever wanted anyone.

God knows how long Craig stood there in the doorway, a raging hard on straining against his jeans and the smallest blush on his cheeks, even if the rest of his face remained emotionless, before Cartman shuddered violently, taking a harsh hold of Kenny's hips and slamming into him several times much harder than Craig would think Kenny's small frame could take. The blond pulled off Butters' cock with a quiet pop and moaned, the noise throwing gasoline over fire in his belly, and the voyeur shivered.

Cartman pulled out with a satisfied sigh, collapsing bonelessly next to the pair. Butters was begging nonsensically, eyes shut tight and moaning. Kenny smirked amusedly, flicking out his tongue to tease the head of the littler blond's cock. "Can I really fuck him?" he asked the sated brunette, receiving an offhand, "He likes it rough."

"I can do that." Kenny snickered, twisting and spinning his victim onto his hands and knees. Craig didn't know how to react as Kenny greedily started licking and fingering the blond's ass, trying to prepare him. He must've gotten bored pretty quickly, though, because Kenny didn't work him over very much at all before he was straightening up, pushing in-between his legs and ruthlessly thrusting into him, moaning like a hitch in heat as he was engulfed by his tight heat while Cartman's cum still dripped from his ass.

Shakily, Craig closed the door and sank slowly down the wall next to it, his head in his hands as he pulled his knees to his chest and tried to will away his erection. But how could he, with the orgasmic images of the little blond nympho swirling in his head? How could he possibly not be desperate to fuck that perfect specimen of a slut?

That's the condition a thoroughly satisfied Kenny McCormick found him in twenty minutes later. A broad smirk on his handsome face, he crouched down in front of the shaken raven, simpering poutily, "You enjoy the show, babe?"

Craig tensed impossibly, slowly lowering his hands from his face and parting his knees so that he could see the blond better. Kenny almost moaned out loud at the emotion he'd finally gotten Craig to show-fear and vulnerability and confusion and lust. God, he was already hard again. What was it about making Craig crack that intrigued him so much?

"Why would you do something like that?" the raven almost whimpered, composure long gone. Kenny smirked, grasping his chin not ungently and tilting his face up. "Because." he whispered heatedly.

Kenny practically attacked the poor confused teen's lips, thrusting his tongue in and letting him taste the cum and alcohol and tobacco as he violated the others mouth. He pulled back to take in Craig's deliciously flushed cheeks and finished dangerously, "I wanted to."

And then he was gone and Craig was alone and confused and painfully horny.

OoO

_An Epicurean does what feels good._

_A Stoic does what makes sense._

OoO

Craig was not one for random 'encounters'. He wasn't the one who came close to ruining his relationship with his best friend because they made out at a party. He wasn't the one who was pregnant with an unnamed man's child, he wasn't the one with a random girl in his bed. Fuck, he wasn't even one of the kids who made out with girls at parties. He had kissed exactly two people before Kenny at that party-his sister and his mother, both in completely different context. Oh, and Tweek-also in totally different context.

So how did Craig end up pressed against the wall of the South Park High's boy's bathroom, biting his palm to keep back the moans threatening to erupt from his throat, a smoking hot blond on his knees in front of him, bobbing back and forth on his cock? Hell if he knew. One minute he was walking towards Room 10, the next he was being tugged inside the abandoned bathroom, shoved against the wall and ruthlessly violated by groping hands and a probing tongue.

"Mc-McCorm... Oh god." Craig practically whined, knees buckling at these wonderful foreign sensations, the sensation of hot, tight suction and the pressure of a shockingly soft, hot tongue that didn't seem quite solid. He didn't know what to do with his hands, scratching desperately at the tile behind him for purchase. After a moment, though, Kenny took pity on him and, with an amused smirk at his victim's naïveté, directed the taller boy's hands into his wild blond locks, where they clenched and unclenched as desperate moans shook the raven's lanky form. The blond's heart melted a little at the way Craig was unconsciously trying not to pull his hair. Really, he's too gentle for his own good.

The hoodrat glanced up through his bangs at his victim and moaned around the other's dick at the sight that greeted him; Craig's mask slipping as his lips parted in a desperate moan and his cheeks blushed red, eyes clenched shut. What was it about getting Craig to crack that Kenny found so _enticing_?

Craig came hard and fast, letting out a strangled word that he might have meant to be _McCormick_ in warning, but Kenny ignored him, deepthroating him easily and relishing in the sensation of cum hitting the back of his throat and the way Craig trembled even harder as he swallowed around his softening cock. He pulled back, soothingly rubbing the other's thighs as Craig melted against the wall, looking and feeling small and vulnerable as he tried desperately to recover.

"You're okay, babe." Kenny comforted him, unable to keep the amusement out of his tone. Craig tried to glare menacingly at him but could only manage a weak middle finger. Feeling sorry for the shaken teen, the blond pulled his boxers and pants back up, buttoning and zipping them up swiftly, all the while humming something cheerful and vaguely familiar.

Kenny removed his hands from the raven's hips, leaning back on his hands as he watched the shaken teen slide down the wall, immediately pulling his legs to his chest and hiding his face in his knees as he tried to regain a normal breathing pattern and clear his thoughts. The blond chuckled, standing quickly and reaching down to haul the teen up onto his knees with a fist in his shirt. "You aren't done, hun." he singsonged.

"Wh-what?" Craig stammered, blinking rapidly. He found his face inches away from the blond's crotch and a very obvious bulge and reeled back, pressing against the wall with panic fighting through his mask to overtake his features. _Precious, _Kenny caught himself thinking. Aloud, though, he rumbled cheerfully, "My turn. Go ahead."

"No, wait, I can't-" Craig cut himself off, staring up at the blond's face and trying not to notice the scarred digits working away at undoing his belt and jeans. The raven pushed back against the wall as far as he could when Kenny freed himself, unable to keep himself from staring at the intimidating appendage practically shoved in his face. One of Kenny's hands reached down to press against the back of his neck and Craig hurriedly caught the hoodrat's hips in his hands to keep him a sufficient distance away.

"Well?" Kenny demanded impatiently, pushing his hips forward just enough to press the head of his erection against the frightened teen's lips. "Don't make this hard on yourself, Tucker."

'Is this proper etiquette for the situation at hand?'

Craig tried to ask, but the moment his lips parted, Kenny pushed in just far enough that the wall prevented Craig from pulling back far enough to get it out. '_Yes'_ seemed to be the answer to his unspoken question. Figuring the only way out was to perform (he shuddered a little at the word), the raven sucked hesitantly, drawing a small pleasured sigh from the boy standing in front of him.

With the tiny bit of confidence he gained from having not fucked up too badly yet, he took another inch or so into his mouth and slowly tried to bob his head like he'd seen girls do in pornos, only receiving a hissed, "Watch the teeth!" for his valiant efforts.

Slowly, though, he got the feel for it and while he couldn't take more than three or four inches or so without choking, he thought he was doing pretty good. A breathy chuckle from the blond proved him wrong a moment later, though, when he observed, "You've never done this before, have you?"

Infuriated and embarrassed, the raven immediately pulled off, practicedly schooling his expression into apathy and biting out, "You take care of that, then."

The hand that had be patiently resting on his head tightened into a fist, tugging his locks none-too-gently. "I think I will. Breath through your nose, sweetheart."

Craig convulsed and choked as Kenny thrust harshly into his mouth, forcefully keeping him stationary as he ignored his choking and spluttering. Fascinated (the blond had never received a blowjob from anybody with a gag reflex before), he pressed him down his shaft until he was almost all the way inside and held him there, hissing at the conflicting sensations of his convulsing and constricting throat and his teeth scraping over the delicate skin. Craig clawed desperately at his torso, desperation shining in his eyes as he tried to push the other off.

The raven was terrified. He choked harder, trying and failing to breathe in through his nose and feeling foreign tears well in his eyes as Kenny pulled out and thrust back in without pity or sympathy.

The blond almost came on the spot at the sight of those scared, tear-filled grey eyes, the clear desperation on his face as he struggled to breathe. God, it was gorgeous. Kenny really did cum when Craig blinked harshly, sending twin streams of tears down his cheeks._ 'Wendy's tears.'_he thought lazily, commanding aloud, "Swallow."

The bitter liquid stuck in Craig's throat as he did what he was told, horribly ashamed of his lack of control. He reached up to wipe the tears away as Kenny pulled out, but the blond caught his wrists and told him, "No." like he was a naughty child instead of a violated teenager. The raven cringed horribly as he swallowed again, his rapid blinking sending more tears down his face.

Releasing his wrists in favor of tucking himself away, the immortal took a step back and surveyed the damage, relishing in the sight he'd created of a very rumpled, disoriented, crying Craig Tucker. A smirk curved his lips. "You're fine, sweetheart. Calm down and find someplace to hide and recover." he advised kindly, only getting the middle finger as a response along with a shaky, "Don't call me that." a few moments later.

Craig's shoulders shook with suppressed sobs and Kenny instantly felt guilty. He sank to his knees before the stricken teenager, gently drawing him first into a one-sided hug and then into a one-sided kiss that he could sense he didn't know how to return. He smiled against the raven's lips, wiping away his tears carefully. Craig closed his eyes and felt the blond move away, leaving him to try and collect himself on the bathroom floor, confused and scared.

OoO

_On the surface, they are two very different ways of looking at life, but if you look closer..._

OoO

Craig started avoiding Kenny like the plague. The blond didn't mind too much-he thought it was kind of cute in a way. And really, he was just letting the apathetic teen adjust to the idea that he belonged to him. He was just waiting for the proper moment to strike.

After all, Kenny's known for his extraordinary luck-whether it's extraordinarily good or extraordinarily bad.

A lecherous smirk stretched his lips as he entered room twenty-seven, the detention room, and saw only a familiar chullo-clad head, bent over a textbook, accompanying him. The counselor behind him grunted in impatience and he hurried inside, quietly setting his backpack down as the counselor launched into his usual, familiar spiel about detention and why they were there, ending, as always, with, "I'm locking the door and I'll be back in an hour. No rough housing, talking or texting."

And then he was gone. Craig went on taking notes about Greek philosophy, mentally comparing his view on life to stoicism, oblivious to the blond's hungry gaze.

"Craig, sweetheart." Kenny simpered. Craig tensed, freezing in place. A shudder rippled down his spine and Kenny's grin widened. The cornered teen slowly looked up, surveying the room to confirm what he already knew. There was no way out.

"Kenny." he greeted, no hint of his emotions displayed on his face as he sat up and calmly set his pencil aside. The blond smirked even wider as he sauntered over, casually sitting on Craig's desk and crossing his legs in a feminine manner that unconsciously mirrored Kyle's. One side of Craig's lips quirked up at the thought, but otherwise his expression remained apathetic-vacant, even. Kenny's confident expression melted into a concerned frown. "You alright, Tucker?"

Craig wasn't stupid. He knew Kenny could see his obvious exhaustion and he knew Kenny would probably call him out on falling asleep in class earlier if he tried to lie. So he didn't, opting instead to respond with a quiet, "Don't worry about it, McCormick."

Docile as can be, the noirette allowed him to grab his jaw, tilting his face up. "What's wrong?" he asked gently, honestly concerned. Craig merely scowled, however, responding with a vague admission of, "Not feeling well." and laying his head down on the desk next to Kenny's legs, on top of his World History textbook. He almost sighed when a friendly hand made contact with his hair, barely resisting the urge to just go to sleep. "Tell me." Kenny demanded a little childishly.

"Why should I?" Craig retorted just as immaturely. Kenny huffed. "Because I want to help."

This caught Craig by surprise. He slowly dragged his gaze from the tabletop he'd been staring at up to Kenny's concerned, friendly eyes. He blushed just the tiniest bit and the blond offered him a lopsided grin. "Fine." he sighed apathetically, cursing himself mentally for giving in so easily. "I've been on antis since fourth grade and my father decided that I'm better and won't refill my prescription. When I tried to explain to him that I was better because of the medication, he screamed at me and told me to stop being a whiny bitch."

Kenny rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty. "I feel like a jackass for having to ask, but what the fuck are antis?"

Craig smirked a little, closing his eyes. "Happy pills."

"You mean like, E?" the blond demanded, shock evident in his tone. Craig stifled a chuckle. "No, anti-depression and anxiety."

"You're depressed?"

"It's America, McCormick. The Prozac Nation."

Their silence was surprisingly comfortable, but Kenny felt inclined to break it anyway. "So why haven't you been sleeping?"

Craig hid his face in his overgrown hair, trying to shield himself from the inevitable pity. "Nightmares. My subconscious is fucked all to hell and it shows without the antis."

Kenny didn't reply. He stood and Craig listened absently as he walked around the room, jolting a little in surprise as the lights flicked off unexpectedly. The footsteps approached him again and suddenly a warm, soft weight was draped over his back. He cracked open his eyes to see the material of his companion's parka and had to fight off a fond smile he usually reserved for the sweet things his sister and Tweek occasionally did for or around him.

"Sleep." the hoodrat urged him. "I'll wake you up if you have a nightmare, I promise."

The raven slowly pulled the hood up over his head, breathing in the earthy, musky scent of Kenny McCormick, smiling at the lingering smell of nicotine, despite the fact that the blond kept promising Kyle he'd stop. "I figured you'd just fuck with me more." he admitted. The blond snorted in laughter, informing him unabashedly, "I was planning on it."

"Why didn't you?"

"Taking care of things that belong to me makes feel important."

Craig decided not to correct him just then, choosing instead to will himself into blissful oblivion. He'd regret that later, but for the moment, it was enough.

OoO

_Omigod. That last scene was supposed to be a rape scene. WTF? It just... Desolved. All because I couldn't see Kenny saying the line that started the scene, and I didn't think I could write an honest to god fight very well. Anyway, this is going to be a two-shot, so hold on. (BTW I hated the bathroom scene SO FUCKING MUCH!)  
><em>

A CHALLENGE!

**Do you know anything about the life of Epicurus?**

_I've always he heard he did some pretty insane shit, but I'm not positive that I'm not getting people mixed up. Do you know of anything wild that he did? (I heard once that he raped and killed his wife to 'see if he could', for example, but everything I read says he never married.)_

_**QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


	2. Chapter 2: Definition

_Bare with me, now._

**The Stoic and The Epicurean-Defining "Rape"**

When Craig awoke, it was to the counselor shaking him awake, asking where Craig had gone. "I am Craig." he replied, confused and half asleep. The counselor sighed exasperatedly. "Nobody can understand you through that forsaken parka, Kenneth."

A slightly awkward hand -staff aren't really supposed to TOUCH students, after all- pushed the hood back, and the older man blinked at him a few times, confused. "Craig? Where's Kenny? Why do you have his parka?"

"I was asleep." the raven bit out, yawning and rubbing his eyes like a child. He felt better. Another point for McCormick. "Oh, yes, you were, weren't you? Have you learned not to flip off authority figures? Probably not, put let's say you have. Have a nice weekend, Craig." The counselor leans in just a little too close when he's talking. The raven did not wait for a more clear indication to leave.

For a moment, he stopped outside the building to admire the orange material draped over his shoulders. It went all the way down to his knees and while it looked natural on Kenny, it seemed too big for Craig, which was odd since Craig was taller, if only by an inch or two. He glanced around hesitantly, as though expecting the blond to swoop in and take it from him, but no such thing occurred. Slowly, he slipped his arms into the sleeves and bent over to zip it up all the way to his chin, putting his hood up. Just like Kenny.

The sleeves went several inches past his fingertips, but Craig didn't mind. A satisfied smile and a tiny blush marked his features as he started the walk towards home, and suddenly, the mental image of Ruby wearing his hoodie popped to mind. _Did it make her feel safe like Kenny's parka does me?_ he caught himself thinking. _Safe? _He thought about it for a moment. _Safe. Definitively safe._

He also felt mysterious, walking through the town hidden under a swath of fluorescent material. Well, maybe he wasn't all that mysterious. It was bright orange, after all. It'd be pretty damn ninja if it were, say, black. That'd be awesome.

Craig wasn't far from home when he heard his name being called in a familiar voice. He stopped, surprised he'd been recognized, and waited for a certain little redhead to catch up with him. He noted with a twinge of amusement that instead of walking faster to keep up with the raven's long legs, Kyle determinedly took longer steps to match him stride for stride. A note of frustration colored his tone when he spoke a moment or two later. "Why do you have Kenny's jacket?"

Craig blinked, feeling as though the Jew was being invasive, even if the feeling was irrational. "How did you know I wasn't Kenny?" he countered automatically, voice blank. Kyle smirked a little, lacing his hands comfortably behind his head as he finally relaxed enough to stop walking so awkwardly. "I know Kenny better than Kenny knows Kenny... And you don't walk like he does."

Craig scowled at his legs as though scolding them for not imitating the immortal better. "How does Kenny walk?"

"Hm. Kenny walks like... Like a cat, swift and kind of in a slinking manner. He also puts one foot directly in front of the other when he's just walking, which I've never seen anybody else do. And you don't have your hands in your pockets and you aren't staring at the ground. You have much better posture, too. You walk like.. Like you own the place." Kyle rambled, ever the over-achiever. He glanced mischievously over at the taller teen. "So... How in the world did you get him to trust you with his precious parka? You guys finally dating?"

Craig blinked at him bemusedly. "No." he denied quickly. "We aren't dating. He just gave it to me to use as a blanket during detention. Why? Is he possessive of it?"

Kyle rolled his eyes with a slightly over-dramatic sigh. "Kenny is possessive over everything he owns... And everything he thinks he owns. Like people, for example. And god help us if we touch any of his notebooks."

Craig shivered as he remembered quite suddenly the last thing the immortal had told him-_'Taking care of things that belong to me makes me feel important.'_Did he really think he owned Craig? "People?" he inquired easily as though they were making pleasant small talk, which, he supposed, they were in Kyle's eyes.

"He gets it in his head that this person or that is his property... He's almost feral about it. It actually started with me, like, I dunno, six years ago now? Because I was getting picked on all the time. Eventually, defending me morphed into protecting me morphed into taking care of me morphed into being responsible for me morphed into owning me. His mind's a bit twisted. As far as I know, he only 'owns' two people other than me-Stan and Karen." Kyle elaborated, sounding like he was writing the blond's biography. Craig wondered if Kyle was one of those people who had a hard time deciphering when something was officially private. He reached into the collar of his shirt and withdrew a simple, plain, sturdy chain that looked as though it had been worn for a long time. "It's official when he 'marks' you. Again, like an animal. Stan let him pierce his ear and Karen has a ring."

"Who's Karen?" Craig inquired apathetically, while his mind was still stuck on this feral part of the immortal-and the fact that Craig seemed to focusing that part of himself on him. The noirette wasn't sure how he felt about that at all.

"His baby sister. He's a family man, deep down. He just... Has a slightly twisted sense of family, is all. Are you going to go in?"

With a jolt, Craig realized that they'd been standing outside his house for several minutes. "O-oh." he stammered, looking at the building as though it were threatening to strike him. Kyle snorted at the bizarre look in his eyes. "Dude... Oh, and by the way?"

Craig glanced over at the suddenly much too serious redhead. He swallowed harshly, muttering, "Yeah?"

Kyle flashed him a reassuring smile. "He likes you, so I wouldn't get in his way too much. Let him do as he pleases and you won't get hurt, alright? Just play along, he'll treat you just fine." He was gone before Craig recovered enough to react properly. The raven shifted uncomfortably, staring after the shorter teen, before remembering suddenly that it was cold and that he could (should?) go inside.

OoO

Kenny moved through Craig's silent room in a manner that suggested he had every right to be there. He smiled and greeted an elderly Stripe, poked around his bookshelf, and generally explored the foreign area. If you were to just look at him, you'd have no idea he'd abandoned detention and snuck in the noirette's empty house to wait for him. You'd have no idea what he was planning.

With no hesitation, he hit the floor next to Craig's bed, shuffling around underneath to find something interesting. He pulled out a cardboard box and opened it excitedly, only to laugh as he realized it was full of Red Racer memorabilia and VHS tapes. He pulled out another box and set it gently in his lap, sensing it's importance. The box was decorated with a pretty, flowery design that was slightly covered by the thin layer of dust it had collected, which the blond wiped away quickly before opening up the box.

His gaze was met with a scrap book. It was thick, leather-bound and worn and the front cover held a glassed-in photo of a very small little girl -maybe a year old- in a pretty pink dress, smiling and flipping off the camera. Carefully turning the pages, more and more pictures of the same red-headed little girl, stretching from birth to maybe five years old, greeted him, along with things like finger-paintings, locks of hair, and other little things you find in baby books. On the last page was a crayon portrait of the Tuckers, all with huge grins and disproportionately large middle fingers. In messy handwriting in the corner was, _"To: Bubby, From: Ruby."_

"Cute." he cooed absently, setting the book aside and going through the rest of the box. Baby clothes, a stuffed bunny, hospital blanket and anklet. Silently, Kenny wondered why this stuff was in Craig's room instead of his parents' room. Shrugging it off, he put the box back together and dove under the bed once more, this time removing a binder labeled, _"Ruby Tucker, Preschool."_It was filled with drawings and letter sheets and other preschool things, along with her 'diploma'. Another search under the bed revealed that Craig also had her kindergarten through second grade work as well as her poetry binder from third grade and a report on her family that she wrote in fifth. She was a surprisingly good writer for that age...

The next thing Kenny pulled out was a children's story Ruby had written called, _"The History of Stripe the Guinea Pig"__._ It was dated somewhere around the time she was in second grade. Almost every page began with, _"My brother says that Stripe..."_Some of it was factual information about Guinea Pigs, some of it was made up misadventures, some of it appeared to be actual history. It was adorable, frankly, and it was all surprisingly well illustrated by both Ruby and, it would appear, Craig as well.

"You really care about her, don't you?" he mused to an absent noirette. He was, however, beginning to wonder if Craig had some sort of sister complex. Isn't there anything under here of Craig's?

'Jackpot,'

he thought excitedly as he withdrew another, much older, cardboard box labeled, _"Craig." _

He opened it anxiously, biting his lip to keep from cooing at the contents. A baby book, a worn stuffed teddy bear that was missing an eye, baby clothes, a handful of framed pictures, a Winnie the Pooh blanket, a framed painting of misshapen, rainbow colored balloons signed by the raven, a Red Racer action figure, a set of marbles, a little league baseball trophy, a ragged Baby's First Bible, a laminated four leaf clover...

He took out the bear and hugged it to his chest. It smelled like coffee and grass and it appeared to have had it's left arm sewn back on on several occasions. Absently, he wondered what it's name was. Opening the scrap book, Kenny found a ton of adorable pictures-bathtime, hospital, first day of preschool, birthday, all sorts of things. His favorite, however, had to be a picture of him maybe three years old, unconscious in nothing but a diaper in the middle of the living room with his butt up in the air, a half-empty bottle of milk clutched loosely in his little pudgy hands. To be frank, it was positively precious.

Slowly coming to a depressing realization, Kenny looked up and surveyed the room. Just as he expected, it was blank. No pictures on the desks, no knik-knaks, no posters, no nothing. The walls were a peaceful, blank dove grey, the furniture was maple and completely cleared off, the sheets were tidy, a boring off-white color. There was no visible blanket or quilt.

It could've been anybody's room. It could've been a hotel room. It could've been one of those room in those house magazines that look nice but depressingly empty. Oddly enough, it didn't suit Craig at all.

Kenny carefully packed everything back away except the Teddy bear, which he set lovingly on the apathetic teen's bed, before changing his mind and diving into the surprisingly soft sheets and cradling the well-loved toy to his chest, drifting off almost immediately.

OoO

Craig paused in the doorway of his room, cheeks flushing pink as he took in the softly snoring blond on his bed, clutching his bear. It was startlingly heartwarming, seeing the way Kenny curled around that part of Craig's childhood in such a loving way. Quickly, though, the noirette remembered that he had no right to be there and had more than likely broken into the house, and a moment later he remembered Kyle's eerie message. He debated silently about whether or not to get angry before an adorable mewling noise from the slumbering teen made the decision for him. Mentally shaking his head at the disconcerting weakness he'd so quickly developed for the human enigma, he opened the closet door, hanging up Kenny's parka and grabbing his blanket from a shelf.

Call him OCD, but he put away his lime green plush blanket away in the closet every day because of how dramatically it stood out from the rest of his room. Craig draped the blanket over the other boy in a motherly way, even going so far as to remove the blond's falling-apart boots and tucking him in a little. Feeling domestic, he waited for several seconds and just watched the other, hands on his hips as though he were expecting something. Nothing was forthcoming, however, so instead, he merely removed his school shirt, revealing a black wifebeater, and laid down next to him, careful to not touch him, and closed his own eyes as well, wondering if he could get away with prolonging his nap from earlier.

(I have got to stop writing when I'm tired... All I accomplish are more scenes that end with someone falling asleep!)

OoO

Pleasure and heat exploded across his skin, heady and overwhelming and deliriously _good_. There was something slick in his mouth, something touching his chest, his face, his sides, down _there_, and the friction, the pressure was mind numbing. Craig bucked his hips, still not quite conscious but desperate for more of this delicious contact. His eyes, hazy with lust and glazed with sleep, cracked open just barely, struggling to take in the figure on top of him. Upon making the sleepy connection that it was, indeed, a person, a person who was molesting him in his sleep, he began to struggle, quickly finding his wrists and hips pinned-restrained?

Hot, wet lips parted from his to smirk down at him lazily. "Cool it, Tucker." he soothed on a chuckle, leaning down to bite and lick at the taller teen's neck. "St-stop!" he demanded, voice cracking a little. Kenny moaned lowly into his neck, grinding his hips down into Craig's and delighting in his choked moan.

He sat up, away from the raven's neck, and starting pulling at the bottom of his shirt, asking pleasantly, "Feeling better, sweetheart?"

Craig merely snarled, trying to free his wrists and panicking at the lack of give. He looked up apprehensively, upset but not surprised to see long strips of cloth-_where the fuck did they come from?_-tying his wrists firmly to the headboard. "This isn't funny, McCormick." he gasped, fear leaking through the cracks of his war-weary mask. "Let me up!"

Kenny chuckled, leaning down to press another kiss to his lips and fumbling around in the pocket of his jeans. "But we've hardly even _begun_to have our fun!" he protested with a Cheshire Cat grin. Craig shuddered in fear and fervently denied excitement, excitement that melted into horror when the blond finally managed to remove the object he'd been searching for from his pocket.

"_McCormick!_" It was supposed to come out as a warning, but it sounded more like a plea. Kenny just smiled, flicking open the switchblade and teasingly licking the flat of the blade. "Mc-McCormick, stop. P-put it away, this isn't a game, _stop_!"

The blade was a wicked looking thing, curved, pointed, and obviously well cared for. It was sharp enough to make Craig, who'd always been irrationally weary of sharp edges, flinch, breath and heartbeat increasing panickedly. Kenny crooned what seemed to be a mixture of Hebrew and German (_Probably learned it from Kyle and Cartman fighting,_he thought vaguely) with a slightly twisted grin, placing the curved tip at the hollow of the noirette's throat. His breath hitched as he stared pleadingly up at those pretty, bordering-on-loving blue eyes. The fear was enough to make him tremble.

No matter how much he hated life, he didn't want to die.

"Put... P-put it away." he begged, fighting the instinct to move lest he accidentally force Kenny's hand-literally. Kenny kissed him again and Craig wondered when that foreign action stopped being so bewildering. "One second, sweetheart."

Craig cringed as the blond slowly dragged the knife down, down, down, leaving a red scratch mark but not breaking the skin, cutting open the noirette's wifebeater, swirling it teasingly around his belly button. He shivered as he lifted the blade, resting it again against his chest, directly over his heart. Craig's eyes shot open, tears pooling in them as he let out a quiet sob. Kenny bit his lip. What was it about getting Craig to crack that he found so undeniably _sexy_?

"McCormick, please, no!" he begged shamelessly, trying to press away from the weapon. Kenny chuckled, tracing scratches in the shape of a heart into the pale skin. "It's Kenny." he demanded out of nowhere, wanting to hear his name on the other's lips. "Kenny!" the noirette cried with little hesitation, "Please, please, Kenny, don't kill me!"

The blond groaned but nodded, promising, "Of course not." and proceeding to carefully slice into the raven's fragile pale skin, dragging it down in a vertical line of crimson. Craig howled, panicking at the sight of his welling blood, more scared tears trickling down his face. He couldn't even speak as Kenny lifted the blade to his lips, curiously lapping at the other teen's blood. "Delicious." he teased huskily, replacing the blade at the center of the cut and pulling upwards diagonally, drawing another scream from his victim. "Hush." he soothed playfully. "Just one more, I promise."

Craig tried and failed to focus on him from bleary eyes, blinking away his excess tears as well as he could. He breathed out in a shuddery gasp, so deliciously _vulnerable_... Oh, Kenny wanted to take him right then. But the sight of blood on his chest reminded him if his goal and he replaced the blade at the intersection of the first and second lines, dragging in a downward diagonal line this time, completing the mark.

Craig didn't have to be able to see it clearly to know it was a K. _It's official when he marks you._

"McCormick." he pleaded as the blond went back to pressing his hips down and kissing his neck, "Please, please don't."

The blond kissed him, thrusting his tongue forcefully past the other's lips and exploring his mouth in a way that made Craig's cheeks flush with a strange, white-hot humiliation. He choked on a left-over sob and tried with his limited experience to kiss back, feeling like a kicked puppy when the blond merely chuckled at his efforts. He fell still again. "Don't be like that, babe." Kenny cooed lovingly, licking the other's face and watching him squirm.

The warm, wet appendage blazed a trail down his chest, making him shudder as it indulged in detours to suck and bite at sensitive spots and dip down into his belly button. He was covered in love-bites and trembling a little by the time the smirking, cocky blond reached the top of his jeans. Automatically, scarred hands went to the zipper over the noirette's reluctant arousal.

Craig screamed a little, jerking his hips away only to be dragged back by an irritated, mildly amused blond. "Accept it, sweetheart," he simpered with a devilish grin as he popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, struggling a little to calm the raven's frantic thrashing. "This... _Ack_, stop squirming! This is _happening_, Tucker, and there is _nothing_you can do about it!"

Craig gasped and shook with sobs and he tried to hide his face in his ensnared arm, only to be forced to look ahead, into the eyes of this man, his opposite, his personal enigma. The Epicurean. The word sprung to mind as he remembered his World History textbook... Epicurus. Craig sobbed as his jeans were slid off his body kind of awkwardly, making it as difficult as possible for him with his wild thrashing and kicking. He settled, though, a moment later when the blond glanced meaningfully at the knife set on the bedside table.

Fingers raked gently over the bleeding cuts and Kenny brought them up to his face for examination. Craig watched silently, feeling almost like a child in time-out. The blond smiled reassuringly at him, but his words just made him cry harder. "Blood makes a good lube, you know. It won't be nearly as bad as you're making it out to be." Craig shook his head mindlessly, writhing and squirming in an attempt to break free. It was futile, of course. Kenny smiled softly, but it morphed quickly into a smirk. "What's it gonna be, sweetheart? Rape or sex?"

Craig just shook his head, trying to force away his tears. He threw his head back and wailed, desperate for someone to hear him, to save him. No one did. He wasn't surprised. Kenny lovingly kissed over his face, repeating his question between the feathery contact of his lips against Craig's tear-streaked face.

"It's... It's r-rape either way, McCormick." he choked out through his tears, gaining a disbelieving, irritated scowl from the blond. "How?" he demanded.

"Ulti... Ulti... Ul-ti-ma-tum." He was having trouble getting the words out and swallowed harshly.

"Bl-blackmail." he elaborated, hyperventilating slightly. Kenny absently rubbed his chest, trying to calm him down, and thought on that for several moments. Craig felt dizzy and vertigo was making his head spin and his stomach churn, the distinct metallic scent of blood doing nothing to help, so he closed his raw, tear-filled grey eyes in an attempt to soothe himself.

After several moments of contemplation, Kenny came to his decision and a rough hand groped at his forced arousal, accompanied by a hot tongue laving across his throat, and he snarled huskily, "Fine, smartass. Do you want me to treat you like my lover or my bitch?"

Craig turned his head to the side and Kenny was struck by how beautiful he looked. His face was open and tear stained, showing anybody who bothered to look his hurt. His body was so vulnerable, pale and perfect and trembling just slightly with fear. A humiliated, violated blush spread across his cheeks and down his chest, almost reaching all the way down to where his claim was still bleeding. Lovebites, smears of blood, and sweat marked his beautiful, pale, vulnerable skin, and the blond was suddenly so proud to call this lovely creature his own.

So caught up in these thoughts, Kenny missed the other's mumbled response. "What was that, sweetheart?"

His voice was small with humiliation and the beginnings of a gorgeous submission. "Your lover."

"I can do that."

How those words hurt-almost as much as what was to come.

OoO

An Epicurean is ruled by emotion. A Stoic is ruled by reason. An Epicurean does as he pleases. A Stoic does as he should. An Epicurean does what feels good. A Stoic does what makes sense. On the surface, they are two very different ways of looking at life, but if you look closer...

OoO

_Who recognized Kenny's last line? Actually, I'll make it a _**challenge**_- First one to place the quote gets to request a one shot from me, no real restrictions._

_Ugh, I know I said this was supposed to be a twoshot, but it's bleeding into a threeshot... Who's up for some awkward silences, revenge, and Lovey the bear?_

_Oh, and just in case you didn't guess... HATED THE RAPE SCENE WITH A BURNING PASSION. Ugh._

_**REVIEW!**_


	3. Chapter 3: Insane

_Just read it. I'm gonna go pass out._

**Chapter Three-Insane**

The only sound in the room was harsh, raspy breathing._ In, out, in, out, in, out. Focus, focus, focus... _

Soft hands made contact with his face and he flinched, eyes shooting open to see those of his rapist, his lover. He shuddered, biting his lip. His eyes welled with more of those bitter, copious tears but he willed them away, having stopped crying halfway through _'it'_ and not particularly wanting to start up again. Craig let his eyes slide shut again as Kenny feathered kisses across his flushed, sweaty face, only opening them when the other withdrew. "Why aren't you crying?" he asked not unkindly, an echo if the day Craig refused to cry for the young martyr Wendy. "Should I be crying?" he asked apathetically.

"Yes." Kenny murmured, not completely paying attention to his words. "You should. That's okay, though. I'm done making you cry. From now on, I'm gonna do my best to make you happy, okay? From now on, you only cry when you need to..."

_'I need to.'_ Craig thought miserably, slowly closing his eyes and, almost as an afterthought, his legs. He felt filthy. "Why?"

He didn't expect an answer and didn't receive one. Kenny merely sighed and stood, leaving the room. For one horror-struck moment, the noirette was sure the other was going to leave him prone and restrained on the bed, but he was back before panic had time to truly set in. The raven cringed as Kenny retook his place on the bed, flinching instinctively away from the warm washcloth that made contact with his abdomen. "Stay still." the immortal scolded, pressing more firmly and wiping away the evidence with long, languid strokes. Giving up, Craig merely stared to the ceiling, not putting up any sort of fight as Kenny poked and prodded and harassed him in his quest to clean him.

His wound was cleaned carefully and meticulously. The raven took note of the spark of guilt in his silent companion's eyes but had no reaction to it, not even when Kenny leaned down to press his lips against the brand cautiously, choosing to close his eyes once more. They felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. The only warning he was given before the now chilled washcloth met his face was the scent of blood and sex emanating from it. It made his stomach turn and he actually gagged a little.

The soiled cloth flung aside, gentle, scarred digits went to work untying the knots that had kept the raven from fighting back properly. The moment he could, he drew his hands to his chest and turned his back to the other, figuring the sake of making his point was more important than his policy of _'Never turn your back to the enemy.'_ A hesitant hand made contact with his leg and he immediately jerked away, curling up into a tight protective ball.

"Why?" he demanded once more. Kenny sighed again, as if this was all so harrowing for him, and Craig bristled with anger. "Why?"

"Mostly," he answered after several long moments, "Because I wanted to make it clear that you belong to me."

Craig almost, _almost_ sneered that he belonged to no one, but just in time it occurred to him that that may say to Kenny that a repeat performance was required. He didn't want that. Instead, miserable, he asked spitefully, "Why the fuck do you want _me_?"

Warm lips made contact with his cheek and he was momentarily blindsided by the sweetness of the action. "I wanted to understand you... So I studied you... And discovered how fascinating you are."

"Fascinating." Craig scoffed, disbelief coloring his tone. "I'm the dullest person alive. I can't even play at fascinating."

A familiar hand smoothed up his side and he relaxed minutely, not conscious of doing so. "Sweetheart, I..." But he didn't finish his sentence and Craig didn't pry for his thoughts. Instead, Kenny laid down behind the violated teenager and drew the warm, brightly colored blanket up around their shoulders. The noirette didn't have the energy to protest when a possessive arm looped around his waist and tugged him back into the blond's warm chest. Unbeknownst to him, he was already accustoming himself to the idea of belonging to Kenny McCormick.

_Logically,_ he thought, using all the knowledge he'd gained about the teen and their situation, _it's best to let McCormick do as he pleases. Right? Right. _

OoO

When he woke, he was alone, thankfully. Alone and cold. He stood, sitting quickly when vertigo hit him violently and flinching at the harsh pain in his ass and lower back. It took him several long moments to motivate himself into standing again, and this time the dizziness faded more quickly. Yawning, he glanced down at himself and blinked confusedly as he noted he was wearing nothing but a blue post-it note stuck to the back of his hand.

He peeled it off and glanced over it. _'Sleep well, Sweetheart. You'll feel better tomorrow. I'll see you in school Monday. Oh, clean the cuts twice a day-bandage them if you can.'_

Craig grimaced, trying to remember when he stopped protesting the pet name. He ran his fingertips lightly across the cuts, his mark, staring down at the way it stood out so starkly against his pale skin, illuminated by the moonlight spilling through his window. He traced the three lines gently, already getting used to the idea that it would more than likely scar. He wondered if this was what having Stockholm Syndrome was like, becoming so accepting of someone he should, for all intents and purposes, hate.

Either way, it couldn't be helped. Could it? _No. _

He got dressed lethargically, wanting nothing more than to curl back up and go to sleep for another twelve hours or so. A glance at the clock revealed that it was two in the morning. He groaned, crawling back into bed, knowing full well he'd be unable to sleep.

A half hour later, he gave up and dove under his bed, searching through 'his' box for several moments before remembering that Kenny had done something with the object he was searching for. He sat up, looking around and finally found him sitting on his bookshelf. Feeling just a little silly, he snatched the bear off the shelf, pressing him to his chest possessively and quickly finding the comfort he always drew from the toy.

_~"Congratulations, son." his uncle praised five-year-old Craig Tucker, pressing the small gift into his hands and kissing him on the forehead. "You're a big brother. That's a big responsibility, you know."~_

Craig smiled a little at the memory as he curled back up in his bed, breathing in the smell of the Tweak Bro's original recipe coffee and grass, thinking of how ironic it was that he hated Ruby the first year she was alive. Holding the ancient treasured piece of his childhood closer, Craig caught the faint lingering scent of his enigma, just barely decipherable among the other familiar smells.

He fell asleep quickly.

OoO

Monday was upon him far before Craig was ready for it. He found himself almost mirroring the paranoia of the small coffee addict he walked to school with, much to Tweek's concern.

"Cr-Craig, gah! Craig, what's wr-wr-wrong?" he stammered, tugged on said teen's jacket sleeve. The noirette glanced down at him tensely, muttering with a glance over his shoulder, "McCormick."

"Did he, did he, _pressure_! Did he say he was gonna b-beat you u-up?" the blond inquired worriedly, looking as though he were mentally preparing himself for a fight. Craig's lips twitched up into a fantasm smile. "No, Tweekers." he reassured the blond, wrapping a friendly arm around his shoulders as they reached school grounds, "McCormick's not gonna beat me up."

"I'm not gonna what now?" the immortal questioned, a dangerous glint in his eye, having practically materialized in front of them. Tweek shrieked at the sudden appearance, burrowing into Craig's side. The noirette took several deep breaths, mask flawless, and droned apathetically, "You're not gonna beat me up."

A mean smirk curved the other boy's lips. "Says who?" he asked, hands on his hips, one jutted out to the side, head cocked, the spitting image of his little sister. Scowling, Craig leaned down to whisper in Tweek's ear, then shoved him off in the direction of the school building. Kenny's glare intensified as he followed the coffee-addict's rushed, stumbling progress.

Meeting Kenny's gaze unflinchingly, Craig tossed his backpack to the side and took up a subtle fighting stance, grimacing as he did so. He didn't want to fight McCormick. "I won't take any more abuse." he warned the immortal, receiving a disarmingly fond smile in return. His apathy faltered for a moment to display the raven's confusion to the other. Kenny shook his head.

"The whole point of Friday," Craig flinched at the reminder, "Was to claim you. I don't purposefully damage my property more than necessary, but I also don't share well." Kenny informed him, his points seemingly random. It took Craig several tense seconds to decipher what he meant. "You're jealous of Tweek." he stated rather than asked.

For the first time ever, Craig saw Kenny blush. His lips quirked up into a smile at the sight, delighting in the way the blond wouldn't meet his eye. He chuckled a little, very quietly, but Kenny caught it and flipped his hood up with a scowl. "Jealous." Craig repeated, enjoying the deepening pink in the normally self-assured teen's face. Angry and embarrassed, the blond stalked forward, boldly standing nose to nose with the stoic boy and snapping, "Shut up, Tucker." and kissing him forcefully.

He could not have picked a worse moment, as as their lips met, Tweek returned from his quest to locate and bring back Token and Clyde.

"Holy shit, dude!"

"Omigod."

"_Meep!_"

Craig almost violently shoved the blond away, feeling his cheeks flush hotly. "It's not what it looks like." he tried embarrassedly. Token shook his head in amazement, absently smacking Clyde, who was pretending to gag. Tweek appeared frozen, not even blinking or twitching as he stared into the distance. Vaguely, Craig worried that he was broken.

"Whatever dude." Token sighed, smacking Clyde harder. The brunette straightened up, whining under his breath. The black teen looked at a very satisfied, avenged blond and told him, "Insert obligatory 'don't fuck up' speech here."

"Got it." Kenny returned smoothly as the bell rang. Token dragged Clyde off, the latter still sputtering nonsensically, leaving Craig to stand uncomfortably between the two blonds, one having apparently stopped working and the other glaring at the first. He'd never been in a situation like this before, so he decided to pretend it didn't exist, going about trying to snap Tweek out of it as if Kenny wasn't there at all.

"Tweekers? You in there? Tweek?" Craig shook him gently by the shoulders, feeling Kenny's glare on the back of his head, but Tweek remained unresponsive. "I hate South Park." the noirette grumbled, swinging the catatonic teen up into his arms.

"Here." Kenny offered automatically, stepping forward with his arms poised to take away the coffee addict who was staring blankly at the sky. "I'll take him."

"No..." Craig mumbled, heading towards the school so he could take Tweek to the nurse, "He doesn't react to change very well. It's best if I'm there when he snaps out of it. And stop treating me like a girl, I don't need help." The last bit was uttered in an angry tone, as Kenny had been trying to take the addict from his arms. In an unconsciously possessive manner, the noirette pulled away, glaring harshly at the immortal.

Kenny rolled his eyes with a scathing glare, obviously displeased. "I've already made it clear who the girl is here, Sweetheart." he sneered. Craig tensed, feeling his eyes burn momentarily, but he took a deep breath and just started walking, ignoring the blond completely.

_Emasculated._ That was the word that sprang to the poor teen's mind.

_How dare he._

OoO

_How dare he._

Kenny is not a rational person.

Kyle has known this for years. Kenny gets angry for stupid shit and acts compulsively and has irrational thought processes. Kyle knows that if this irrationality is directed at you, you either make sure you have more back up than him or take it until he comes back to reality. Ever since Kenny gained a couple inches and some skill on Stan, Kyle's had to take a lot of shit from the blond, but he didn't mind too much. Most of the time, the immortal was content to hold him a little too tightly and rant at him. Easy to deal with, but time consuming. For example, sitting on the roof engulfed in Kenny's arms and parka while the blond smokes (like he was doing at the moment) costs a class period or two. Luckily for everyone, Kyle has a hundred and thirteen percent in Cultures. He can afford to skip third period.

"It's just not fair!" the blond was whining, clutching the disgruntled redhead to his chest. "I claimed him, I marked him, I practically promised to love him forever, I admitted I was jealous, and he still outright _flirted_ with Tweek! What the fuck, right?"

Kyle decided it would be bad for his health to point out that Kenny sounded like bitchy girlfriend and asked instead, meek from within the other's potentially harmful grasp, "Claimed? Marked?"

"Fucked 'em, branded 'em." Kenny muttered flippantly, ignoring Kyle's sputtering. "The point is that he belongs to me and he's being unfaithful."

"Wait, back up." Kyle pleaded, trying to straighten up and away from the blond but finding the grip too tight, "He just... Let you do this?"

Kenny rolled his eyes down at the Jew as though he were a small, ignorant child. "Of course not, Ky. I tied him up." For the first time in a long time, Kyle looked at his friend with fear in his eyes. It took Kenny a moment to notice, but once he did, you could see the anger and the glint of insanity fade. _I suppose,_ Kyle thought vaguely as he tried to slide subtly away from the blond, _everyone in South Park is a little insane. Just a little._

Kenny crumbled in on himself, allowing the redhead to slip out of his grasp. He hugged himself tightly around the middle, looking pathetic enough to convince the Jew that he'd be safe if he stayed. "I guess he needs time to adjust." he admitted softly, guilt plastered across his face. His long time best friend nodded, patting his shoulder sympathetically and suggesting in a small voice, "Maybe you need to adjust. Y'know, to, to the way he works. C-compromise. Stan says a healthy relationship is built on compromise."

Kenny flipped up his hood defensively and when he spoke, his voice was muffled. "Stan pined after a lesbian who broke up with him every three days for seven years, and now he's a depressed nutcase." he pointed out, ignoring the way Kyle's face flushed with anger.

"He's getting better, you asshole, and you'd know that if you ever spent time with him! And don't talk about Wendy like that. She's brave. Respect the dead." he lectured a little brokenly, making points seemingly at random. He hugged his own middle, feeling tears sting his eyes, and realized what an odd pair they made, both damaged and heartbroken. Both a little insane. "You don't respect me." the immortal retorted absently.

"I do." the smaller of the two corrected just as vaguely, staring down at his wrung-together hands. Shyly, he glanced up at his lifelong best friend. "So, dude, what're you gonna do about Craig?"

Kenny shrugged tiredly. "I dunno, whatever he wants me to do. I'd do anything for him."

Kyle hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "What if... What if he wants you to leave him alone?"

A sardonic smile overtook the insane teenager's lips. "Almost anything."

OoO

Craig was still rather disturbed by the time he had seen Tweek out of his catatonic state and into a fitful sleep. The nurse forced him to go to class, much to his further dissatisfaction, as he shared the class with Kenny and most certainly did not want to leave his paranoid best friend.

When he arrived, however, he was informed that his lab partner-the blond in question-had dropped off Craig's backpack but left to go 'have a smoke'. Only in South Park.

So with that small reprieve, the noirette settled down into the chemistry lecture, a plot boiling in the back of his head. After all-it's never a good idea to challenge any man's pride.

OoO

Kenny had been wrong when he said Craig had been avoiding him last week.

This was avoidance.

This was hardcore, ninjalike avoidance.

The blond hadn't managed to come within five feet of him all week. He had no idea how this was possible, considering they had three classes together and were lab partners, but Craig did it. It was starting to wear of Kenny's nerves-the withdrawal, that is. Several times he caught himself considering following him, but ultimately he decided to leave the stalking to Cartman.

Then another week passed. And another.

Soon it was Friday, three entire weeks after the Incident. And as pitiful as it was to admit, Kenny missed him. He was losing sleep and appetite and just general projected an air of "Look at me, I'm depressed!"

Luckily, though, he had Kyle and Stan's fighting to distract him, but even that was getting tiring. He really couldn't understand why they didn't just admit defeat and fuck. They both wanted it, and they knew they both wanted it, so what was holding them back?

It seemed to Kenny like nothing was making much sense these days.

He sighed long-sufferingly, feeling just the tiniest bit ridiculous as he gazed longingly at the noirette in question. He was wearing that chullo again. Kenny wondered if it was the same one as when he was a child. It didn't look too small, but if the material stretched gradually over time... Would it work that way? Slowly, the blond came to the conclusion that he didn't really care and sighed once more, pouting like an insolent child.

Desperate for the other teen's attention (Kenny really acts a lot like his little sister), he fished through his notebook, looking for a blank page amongst notes, poems, doodles and the like. He didn't find one, but decided to rip out one of his sketches and write on the back of it.

OoO

Craig stared blankly down at his equally blank paper, wondering -as he seemed to always be the last three weeks- if he had the balls to go through with his plan. Probably not, but how else could he prove his masculinity to both himself and to Kenny? So lost in thought, it took him several seconds to register the neatly folded sheet of notebook paper with his name scrawled in dramatic cursive along the outside.

Lazily, he opened it, glancing around the room to see everyone staring at the teacher, taking notes or sleeping. He tilted his head to the side, a little bemused as he appreciatively observed the startlingly realistic inked rose across the page, shaded patiently in pencil, for several moments before moving onto the short message.

_Craig, can I talk to you after school? It's important. No funny business, I swear. Behind the gym? -Kenny_

Craig looked up at the tense blond, waiting patiently to catch his eye. He didn't have to wait long before Kenny furtively glanced up, freezing in surprise when he caught the noirette's gaze. Craig nodded once and the other teen relaxed minutely, smiling crookedly at his obsession. Craig, though, had another suggestion. _'Walk home with me.'_ he mouthed slowly, not wanting to repeat himself. Kenny nodded eagerly, a grin overtaking his features.

OoO

The two teenage boys were silent the rest of the day. They were silent during the walk home. Silent as Craig opened the door and led his companion inside. Silent. Silent as they sat on Craig's bed. Silent as Kenny picked up the abandoned Teddy Bear and hugged it to his chest. Frankly, it was grating on the immortal's frazzled nerves. "So." he muttered just to break the silence. Craig jumped, turning slightly to stare wearily at him. Desperately searching for a conversation starter, the blond stumbled over his words for a moment before forcing out, "What's his name?"

Craig sighed quietly, laying back on his bed and scooting more towards the middle of the mattress. He tried not to think of the last time he was here with Kenny. Maybe he should add that to his list of things he isn't allowed to think about. Right under germs and the coming zombie apocalypse. "Who's name?" he asked monotonously.

"Your bear." Kenny elaborately, watching interestedly as Craig's cheeks flushed a little. "He doesn't have one." he replied smoothly, voice just as blank as ever. Kenny smirked.

"You're a terrible liar." he taunted. Craig glared at him, propping himself up on his elbows. "I am not lying." he enunciated carefully, as though trying to relate the message to a mentally challenged child. Kenny, it seems, did not get the message regardless. He smirked, twisting to support himself on his hands and knees and crawled over to the now tensed-up raven. "Tell me." he urged, a playfully warning note to his words.

Craig shook his head, a little nervous. "Or what?" he challenged.

"Or..." he drawled, looking around the room for inspiration. Finally, his eyes landed on Craig's sides and he smirked, inquiring quietly with mirth in his eyes, "Craig, are you ticklish?"

The noirette shook his head vehemently, denying tensely, "I am not ticklish."

But, Kenny discovered quickly as his talented fingers dug into the raven's sensitive sides, that was a boldfaced lie. Craig was extremely ticklish. The blond was positively delighted with his squirming and flushed face and threats, refusing to stop, and finally, he hit a sensitive spot near his ribs and Craig was laughing. Kenny's never heard him laugh before-it was an edging on hesitant noise, erratic and breathy, as though he hadn't laughed in a good long while. He wondered vaguely if that was true. Probably. Regardless, it was something he wanted to hear again, that adorable laugh.

A moment later, tears of forced mirth were gathering in the poor struggling teen's eyes and, reluctantly, Kenny let up, asking the panting boy cheekily, "Ready to tell me?"

Craig shook his head, giggling breathlessly with an irritated yet mirthful glint in his stormy eyes. Kenny rose an eyebrow, making a show of diving back in for another round, but the moment his fingers dragged over his painfully ticklish ribs, the noirette almost squealed, "Lovey! His name is Lovey the Bear!"

Now it was Kenny's turn to laugh helplessly, eyes stinging with mirth as he laughed hard enough to make his stomach hurt. Scoffing and sneering even with the bright red blush across his face, the raven pushed him off and stood, snatching the bear away and putting it on a high shelf. "I was little!" he defended himself against his hysterical companion.

"Oh, come on, Craig!" he gasped out between chortles, "You are such a girl sometimes!"

The raven abruptly fell still and Kenny instinctively knew he'd hit a sore spot, laughter dying in his throat as he tensed, sitting up cross-legged. As much as the blond willed him to, Craig did not turn around. _Emasculated_ rested again on the apathetic teen's lips but he still did not dare to speak the word.

"That was my first time, you know." he commented. It didn't take Kenny more than a second to follow his train of thought. "I know." he responded thoughtlessly, not considering his words before he spoke them.

"It hurt." he continued in the same monotone, still impossibly motionless. Kenny cringed with guilt, apologizing quietly. Craig ignored him, however, instead taking a deep, steadying breath and plunging his hand into his pocket, withdrawing something small and shiny that made goosebumps rise on Kenny's flesh instinctively. He didn't move, however, not even when Craig turned to reveal a shadowed face filled with anger veiling nervousness. He held his ground as the raven made his way to where he sat, standing directly in front of him.

"Kenny." he murmured, rubbing his thumb over the flat of the razorblade clutched carefully in his fingers. The immortal took in a deep, shuddery breath, inexplicably excited, scared, filled with adrenaline. "Yes, Sweetheart?" he crooned automatically, tilting his head up to meet Craig's insane stare with his own equally mad gaze. "I'm going to take you." he informed his rapist evenly.

Kenny's breath caught in his throat. "You can have me."

Surprise sparked in those beautiful grey eyes. "I'm going to hurt you." he warned the immortal, trying to evoke fear, the fear that he'd felt. Kenny offered a lopsided, darkly amused grin.

"In case you haven't noticed, Sweetheart, sadomasochism is kinda my thing." He explained gently.

Craig's free fist clenched, eyes clouding with confusion. "I don't… I don't understand." he whispered. Kenny laughed humorlessly as he reached up to draw his victim into a kiss. "I don't either."

OoO

An Epicurean is ruled by emotion. A Stoic is ruled by reason. An Epicurean does as he pleases. A Stoic does as he should. An Epicurean does what feels good. A Stoic does what makes sense. On the surface, they are two very different ways of looking at life, but if you look closer...

No, they're still pretty damn different.

OoO

_So? How was it?_

_I tell you, this just about killed me in cold blood. Seriously. I had the _worst _writer's block on it… _

_CHALLENGE! Do you have a rival? How did you become rivals? Are you guys friends?_

_**QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


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